


Tainted Love

by JustJenn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, M/M, Slash, pre-season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJenn/pseuds/JustJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Alastair react when the Angels "rescued" Dean from Hell? Badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted Love

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for ficfinishing@lj. Feedback is loved.

For the first time in eons, Hell was silent. There were no screams of the damned and tortured souls. Hell’s sky was slowly starting to grow dark after being briefly lit up by the Grace of a thousand Angels.

Angels who had literally swept in and plucked one soul out of Hell; the soul of Dean Winchester.

Alastair stared at the spot where Dean had been standing seconds ago, his razor lying on the ground like a discarded toy. He picked up Dean’s razor and fingered the gleaming silver blade. He looked upwards, his face a portrait of disbelief and shock. Something inside Alastair’s chest started to tighten and it took all of his self control to keep the word No from slipping out.

“Ha, ha, Alastair lost his toy,” a demon taunted in a sing-song voice seeing Alastair’s face. “Poor, poor Alastair, so lost without his toy. Maybe those holy feather dusters are giving your toy a good workout with his mouth. That’s all he was good for.” There was a collective gasp from all the demons who had watched Dean Winchester being pulled from Hell.

Inexplicable grief turned into pure rage as Alastair grabbed the demon and started to squeeze and blood started to cascade down his arm and drip to the floor. Alastair knew he had to act fast; otherwise his fellow demons would turn on him like a pack of rabid dogs.

“You think I’m weak?” Alastair hissed shaking the demon harshly, ignoring the demon’s weak attempts to pry Alastair’s hands off his neck. ‘I’ll show you weak.” The demon screamed has Alastair methodically broke his arms, legs and spine. Not a single demon moved. The older ones knew if Alastair didn’t re-establish his authority in Hell, he would become another demon’s plaything or dead in that order.

Grief and rage fueled him has he reached upwards, by passing the pitiful wards that kept Hell and Earth separate. He ignored the burning pain when he reached inside the Vatican and the surrounding churches and found what he was looking for. Demons started to scream has it started to rain skeletons, burial shrouds, vestments, and coffins. The weaker demons fled unable to withstand the strength of the Holy Relics and the rest of the demons watched vividly.

Alastair ignored the pain in his hands has he tore apart the coffins and skeletons apart and made a Cross out of the bones of several Popes and Saints. Alastair dragged the whimpering demon over and nailed him to the Cross using the bones of Saints and Popes and he fashioned a crown made out of the Keys of Saint Peter for his head. He took a crucifix that belonged to Pope John Paul the Second and started to crave into the demon’s chest while chanting under his breath, spells that had not been heard in eons echoed across Hell causing several of the older demons to stir uneasily. In an astounding feat of strength, Alastair picked up the Cross and the screaming demon and slammed it into the ground. He piled the broken wood at the base of the Cross and stepped backward.

Using the ribcage of a Pope, he dug a circle around the demon and lined it with bones, wood and clothes from various Popes and Saints. He closed his eyes and reached upwards into Church of the Holy Sepulchre and found several jugs of Holy Oil and dragged them to Hell.

Ignoring his rapidly charring hands, Alastair filled the circle with Holy Oil and doused the wood and the demon with the remaining oil. He fashioned a crude torch using the bone of a Saint and the burial shroud of a Pope and pulled out a battered Zippo lighter and lit the torch. Alastair dipped the torch into the circle and watched it catch fire.

“NO!” the demon screamed in fear, frantically trying to free himself. “NO!”

“Maybe an Angel will come down and rescue your sorry ass, but I somehow doubt it,” Alastair hissed through his bloody teeth. “You will burn for all of eternity.”

Alastair threw the torch at the demon, and the demon started to scream, caught in an endless circle of healing and burning, his screams echoing across Hell. Older demons nodded in grudging respect and the weaker demons backed away from him in fear.

Alastair ignored them has he let his body dissolved into black smoke and he followed Dean’s trail to Earth. Dean Winchester belonged him and Alastair had every intention of bringing Dean back to his side regardless of the cost.


End file.
